Trigger
by NorthernStar
Summary: In 1998, Jesse Travis was found bleeding and alone in Utah. He had been missing for five days and had memory of where he had been, or what had happened to him. In the summer of 2002, he's about to find out...Part four up at last!
1. One

Disclaimer: All hail Viacom, who own them. I ask only to borrow, to use, maybe to soil (a little) but I shall return them.

Rating: PG-13

Status: Work in progress.

Summary: In 1998, Jesse Travis was found bleeding and alone in Utah. He had been missing for five days and had no memory of where he had been, or what he had done. In the summer of 2002, he's about to find out.

Notes: This is not part of the Jesse's Journey universe, and is not slash. Events mentioned here occurred in the excellent episode "Alienated."

****

Trigger

By NorthernStar

****

8th June 2002

In all the years Steve had worked homicide, the smell of dead flesh had never ceased to sicken him. Death had its own rank odour of course, but murder…

The scent of murder reached deeper, played to the baser instincts of man. He would never get used to it and he hoped he never would.

Steve ducked under the 'police line' tapes, flashing his badge at the uniforms patrolling the crowds of gawpers, and headed towards the knot of officers at the centre of the cordon. The ugly smell worsened with every step and he fought the impulse to wrinkle his nose in disgust.

When he reached the body, he knelt down beside the familiar form of the police pathologist. Amanda gave him a smile in greeting. 

"What have we got?" He asked her.

"Male, approximately 35 years old, five foot ten. Apparently died of asphyxiation and/or fractures to his upper vertebrae."

"Time of death?"

"Again, very approximate until I can get him into the lab, but I'd say sometime yesterday. Not long ago."

Steve looked up at the uniformed cop standing next to him. "Was there any ID on the body?"

"None, sir." He held out an evidence bag. "But we did find this in his pocket."

Inside was a thin circle of plastic. A bracelet, the type Steve was very familiar with. It was a hospital ID tag. He looked at the front. "No name." He muttered. "Just a number. 200670."

The cop shrugged, wearily. "Just another John Doe."

******

Amanda had just finished filing the last of the autopsy reports, including that of the John Doe when Mark walked into the path lab. She had been expecting him for a while and smiled at his entrance. Her friend never could resist the allure of an unknown corpse.

Mark made straight for the body and pulled back the white sheet. The man's pale, almost gaunt face stared hollowly up at the ceiling.

"What did you find?" He asked.

"He was strangled. Probably from behind by the positioning of the bruising to the right side of his oesophagus." She said. "He had been beaten approximately 48 hours before the time of death resulting in soft tissue damage to his kidneys and severe bruising to the back of his knees. There was also a significant amount of swelling in the area. He would have walked with a limp." 

Mark consulted the file beside the body. "Borderline malnutrition."

"That's consistent with his appearance and the state of his clothes. He was almost definitely a transient."

Mark sighed, looked down at the pitiful body before him.

Amanda peeled the cover back a little more. "I also noted this."

She took the corpse's arm and turned it, revealing the white flesh of the under arm. She pointed to a small crescent shaped scar about two inches from his armpit. "It's about three weeks old, and the edges are quite ragged, suggesting that it wasn't stitched at the time. It's amazing such a deep cut didn't become infected, particularly given the man's lifestyle."

"You know, I've seen something like this before." Mark said, frowning. "I just can't remember where."

"Has Steve identified him yet?"

Mark sighed. "No."

And they both knew that, as a homeless wanderer, he wasn't ever likely to have any other name attached to his passing other than 'John Doe.'

The door opened and Jesse strolled in, looking happy. Amanda was expecting him too. The young doctor couldn't resist a murder any more than Mark could. Or herself for that matter. 

They really needed to get out more…

"Hey." Jesse said as he came around the autopsy table. He stopped at Mark's side and peered at the man. 

Something tugged at the back of his mind and he frowned. He bent over, looking right into the corpse's face, oblivious to the strange looks Mark and Amanda were giving him.

"Jess?" Amanda murmured.

The young man's face became like stone, the colour leeching from his skin.

Jesse began backing away.

Mark reached out to him, concerned. "Jess?"

Jesse jumped at the touch and pressed his hands over his ears, curling in on himself. 

"Jesse, what is it?"

"No…n-no…stop…." He dropped to his knees, still clutching his head.

"JESSE!"

At Mark's shout, the young man's head snapped back, eyes wide, staring wildly up at Mark. "Utah…" he gasped, before crumpling bonelessly to the floor.

~~ To be continued (yes, I know I'm being cruel :o) ) ~~~


	2. Two

****

******2******

"Jesse?"

There was noise ahead, plucking at him, echoing loudly in his aching head. Jesse preferred the warmth and darkness and peace, but the voice kept bugging him.

"Jesse, it's Mark."

"Mark…?" He heard his own voice answer, scratchy and dry.

"Are you alright?" 

He opened his eyes at the new sound. "'Manda?"

"We're all here, Jesse." She assured him, smiling down at him. He felt her hand resting on his shoulder and tried to smile back.

"Do you remember what happened?" Mark asked.

Jesse licked his lips, "got dizzy…"

"In the morgue. You recognised the John Doe."

The young man frowned, thinking back. But all he remembered was his legs turning to rubber and the floor falling up to meet him. "I don't..."

"You said 'Utah' before you collapsed." Amanda told him.

The frown deepened, "Utah…? I've never been there."

"Yes, you have, Jesse." Mark said quietly. "You just don't remember very clearly."

"Mark?"

"Do you remember a few years back, when Paris Pharmaceuticals kidnapped you? Kept you prisoner for five days?"

"Hard to forget. You all thought I was crazy."

Understanding, and maybe even a little fear, dawned on Amanda's face. "The highway patrol found you in Utah." She looked over at Mark. "Do you think our John Doe is connected to Jesse's abduction?"

"I think it's a possibility."

"Maybe we should call Steve and-"

"Hold on a minute," Jesse interrupted, sitting up. "I only fainted. I'm probably just low on sugar. No police investigation needed, just a chocolate bar."

Mark shook his head. "Jesse I saw your face when you looked at that corpse. You were remembering something."

"Something so terrible your mind tried to block it out. Again." Amanda added.

Jesse stared at the pair of them like they'd lost their minds. "And you thought Iwas crazy over Paris Pharmaceuticals."

Mark lay a hand on his shoulder. "Jesse, I want you to take a look at the body again."

The words brought panic and a nameless dread to the pit of his stomach. "No."

"If you're right and you just fainted, then there's nothing to be afraid of."

Jesse straightened up at the intimation that he was scared. "I have rounds."

"Not until tomorrow." Amanda said. "Mitch is covering your shift."

Jesse looked down, not wanting to say just how badly he didn't want to see that dead man again. And not knowing why.

"It's just another corpse." She added.

Except…

Except every other cadaver he'd seen didn't fill him with a sick clench of fear, as this one did.

Mark sighed, "just think about it, Jesse." He said, "it might provide us with some answers." He touched the young man's arm. "I'll go get you some chocolate."

Amanda watched Mark leave, then turned to Jesse. "He's just worried about you."

"I know."

"Don't you want to know what happened back then? Don't you want answers?"

Jesse rested back against the pillows, "no." He said softly.

*******

Steve grabbed the phone and stuffed it in the crock of his shoulder before returning his fingers to the keyboard. 

"Sloan." He said.

"Steve," came his father's voice. "I need you to do something for me."

The detective glanced at the huge pile of his own work and sighed. "Sure."

"Can you pull the file of the Paris Pharmaceuticals case."

"Paris Pharmaceuticals?"

"They were responsible for Jesse's disappearance several years back."

Steve remembered with a shudder. Coming back to an empty cabin, calling Jesse's name into the darkness as the returning silence seemed to get louder and louder, and the fear grew stronger every second.

__

You left me…

"Steve?"

He jolted from his memories. "Yeah, I remember. We never did get a conviction. I'll pull the file when I've finished up. Shouldn't be more than a couple of hours."

"Just bring it by the hospital as soon as you can."

Steve frowned, feeling a thrum of concern. "Why? Has something happened?"

"Not yet. I'll explain when you get here."

******

Mark put down the phone, feeling a little guilty. He knew Jesse wouldn't want Steve involved in this, especially since none of them really knew what '_this'_ was yet.

In many ways, Jesse's disappearance had been just as traumatic for Steve, having to cope with his own guilt at leaving Jesse alone and the confusion and fear for his friend.

Jesse didn't want to put himself, or anyone else through that again and Mark could understand that.

But he could see answers ahead. Bright shining answers to all his lingering questions. Answers that could provide closure for everyone, especially Jesse, and maybe bring Paris Pharmaceuticals to justice at last.

Pursuing this could only be for the good…

********

Jesse was sitting up, legs dangling over the side of the bed when Mark came back in with a bar of chocolate and a can of Pepsi.

"Thanks." Jesse said, taking the offerings and began unwrapping the bar.

"You know, I think Connors is on staff today. I could set up a meeting."

Mention of Community General's resident hypnotist annoyed Jesse. "Look, Mark, I appreciate your worrying about me, but I just fainted."

"Jesse, I really think there's more than that." 

"So what if it is? I can't do this. It took me a long time to accept I'd lost a week, that I wasn't going to get it back. It almost destroyed my relationship with Susan. I can't go through that again."

"Paris Pharmaceuticals were never prosecuted for what they did to you or for the murders they committed." Mark pointed out. "You could help bring them to justice."

Jesse looked down. "I don't care about that."

"I don't believe that, Jesse."

"OK, so I hate that they got away with what they did to me. But it was a long time ago and it's over. This has nothing to do with them." Jesse swallowed a mouthful of chocolate. "Mark, I just fainted. And now I've had some chocolate I feel fine so I'm just-"

Mark stopped him from getting off the bed. "You're a young, healthy man and you collapsed. You were hyperventilating and you were obviously having some sort of PTSD flashback."

"Fine." He held out his arm. "Run some test if it makes you feel any better."

Amanda smiled, "we already did, when you were unconscious."

"And?"

"And you're fine." 

"Jesse," Mark said, looking him in the eye. "You can't ignore the possibility that something about the John Doe has triggered your memories of that time."

The young man sighed. "I'm not." He said, "I won't."

Mark opened his mouth to say more, but at that moment his pager and Amanda's went off.

"Crime call." Said Amanda, looking at her pager.

Mark lay a hand on Jesse's shoulder. "We'll be back soon."

Jesse watched them leave and opened his can of drink.

*******

Steve sorted through the files he had spent the last hour pulling from the records. The Paris Pharmaceuticals case had been dropped some four months after Jesse's disappearance due to lack of evidence. 

Quinn Trask, the man responsible for filling Jesse's head with ideas about alien abductions and maybe the man who had kidnapped him, had disappeared from the hospital he had been taken to after Jesse shot him. The government then denied he'd ever been there. 

The only other witness was Jesse, whose credibility had been destroyed by drugs and a National Enquirer spread on his 'abduction by aliens.'

Jesse had been understandably upset over Paris Pharmaceuticals escaping justice and both Steve and his father felt they'd failed Jesse in some way. Mark had spent many hours at the DA's office trying to get them to take the case, but in the end he had admitted defeat.

And Mark didn't take defeat very well.

Which was probably why Steve had heard such determination in his father's voice when he had called. Paris Pharmaceuticals had escaped him once, and Mark wasn't about to fail again. And Steve knew he'd back his father all the way.

The company was going to pay for what they put Jesse through.

Finally Steve had gathered up all the files and records from the case, took what he needed from the evidence room and headed out to the hospital. 

********

The examination room was dark and empty. Jesse glanced at his watch, knowing he had at least half an hour before Mark and Amanda returned. He shifted on the bed, restless. He didn't take doing nothing very well.

In the peace and quiet, the tic…tic…tic…of the wall clock was audible. Jesse tried to ignore it and stay put but finally he couldn't stand being inactive any longer. He hopped off the bed and went to the window. This late in the day the hospital was winding down, and the corridors were empty of all but the night staff.

Jesse opened the door and walked out. His feet carried him to Amanda's morgue almost without his conscious knowledge. He stopped at the door and peered through the window, saw the room was empty. 

The lockers waited and before he could loose the momentum he had gathered, Jesse slipped inside the morgue. His search for 'John Doe 060802' ended at the centre of the row of lockers, about waist height down. He reached out and his fingers curled around the handle.

Inside was those answers Mark so desperately wanted. Either that or another dizzy spell.

Or maybe both…

TBC


	3. Three

I'm sorry for the huge *huge* wait between chapters.  Leaves on the line, the wrong kind of snow etc…  Normal service has now been resumed.

Anyway, on with the show…

***

***3***

Jesse pulled on the locker door.  The metallic clank-shush of the catch echoed in the empty morgue, reverberating in his ears and everything around him faded as....

_The door opened and booted feet marched in…._

Jesse gasped as the image that flashed before him, clear as day.  The sensation was like being suddenly drenched by a bucketful of ice cold water.

"Jesse?"

Reality crashed back in at the sound of his name spoken behind him.  He spun around at the voice, breathing heavily.  "Steve!"  

The detective frowned.  "Jess, are you OK?"

"I-I…there's…body…"  

Concern appeared on Steve's face.  He stepped closer.  "What body?"

"This one!"  Jesse cried, forcing himself to look around at the open morgue locker.  Dull shiny metal stared back at him.  The slab was empty.

"He was…there was…" his eyes were wide.  "I saw…"

"Jesse, calm down." he took Jesse's arm.  "Let's find my dad and have him-".

The young man skittered away before he was even aware he was doing it.  "Don't touch me!"

The concern on Steve's face deepened.  "Jesse?"

Gradually the panic subsided and Jesse lowered his hands.  "We have to tell Mark."  He forced the words out of his dry mouth.  "The…the body's gone."

"Are you sure it hasn't been collected for burial?"

He shook his head.  "No.  It was the John Doe."

The pathology lab door opened and Jesse tensed. The flash of booted feet replayed in his mind's eye, less of a shock this time but no less disturbing.  Mark's face replaced the image a moment later.

"Jesse!"  He said, looking relieved.

Steve turned to his father.  "Dad, what's going on?"  He said.  "What does this have anything to do with the Paris Pharmaceuticals file you asked for?"

Mark frowned, "I'll explain later.  Let's get Jesse back to his room."

*****

Steve watched as his father fussed over Jesse, taking his blood pressure and checking his pupil responses.  Jesse had relented to the examination, but the tension in his face spoke of his earlier panic.

"I'm fine, Mark."  The young man protested.

"Maybe, but your B/P could do with coming down."

Steve smiled.  "I told him to lay off the salt at Bar-B-Q Bobs."

"You know you should have left your bed alone, Jesse.  You could have collapsed again."

He gave a half smile.  "You were gone."

Steve felt a shiver run through him at the words.  _You left me…_ echoed in his head and he drew a breath.

Mark frowned, "And you went to the morgue…to find Amanda?"

"No, I-" A touch of Jesse's earlier panic registered on his face.  "Mark, he's gone.  The Joe Doe."  He told him.  "I…I opened the locker…and he wasn't there."

"Are you sure you opened the right one?"  Steve asked.

He nodded.  "We only had one Joe Doe today.  I couldn't have opened the wrong door by mistake."

Mark paused.  "I thought you said you didn't want to see him again."

Jesse did his best to look casual.  "It was just another dead body, right?"

"Dad, if this body really has gone missing, we should report it."

Mark nodded and cast a concerned look at Jesse, who lay back on the bed.  "I'll be fine."  Jesse assured him.

"This won't take long."

***

The door shut behind Mark and Steve and the silence of the room closed around Jesse.  He laid his head back against the pillow and stared at the ceiling.  Gradually his eyes closed and he found himself relaxing.  Sounds filtered through the walls, the intercom announcements, the chatter of voices, and the grate of wheel across the floor.  A woman in spike heals tap-tap-tapped her way down the corridor.  

_Booted feet stamped towards him.  Hands hauled him upright.  A face stared into his own.  Then the face was a corpse, lying on Amanda's slab…_

Jesse sat forward in the bed, gasping.  It was him.  That man had been there, in those missing hours.

His face had triggered something.

And now Jesse was starting to remember…  


	4. Four

Notes:  Thanks to everyone who reviewed (and mailed) asking for more chapters: they're the reason you're reading this.  At this rate, though, the story might well be complete in, say, 2010.  :o)

*****4*****

Jesse stumbled out of bed, heart racing, but the image of the murdered man, at once white and dead and whole and alive, remained.  His legs tangled in the sheets and he fell.  The hard cold floor jolting the memory away and for a second, he was elsewhere, on another floor.  He could feel the dirt digging into his skin and there was a burnt, acrid smell.

And then the sensations vanished and for a moment, Jesse lay there, trying to make sense of where he was.

The hospital…

And it was 2002.  1998 was a lifetime ago.  A whole millennia ago; nothing could hurt him now.  

He grabbed the bed and hauled himself up.  His legs felt jelly-like and he sank back down on the bed.  His mouth was dry and the silence of the hospital room was almost unreal.

Memories…

That's what Mark thought was happening to him and as much as Jesse wanted to argue with that hypothesis, he knew as doctor that the diagnosis was a valid one.  He knew something of the mechanics of traumatic amnesia and regained memory, from his student days, but advanced psychiatrics was hardly his specialty.  What he did remember was that emerging memory, as with most medicine, it all boiled down to the individual.  Some people regained their memory slowly, sometimes quickly and it was rarely neither coherent nor linear.  But you were lucky to regain all your memories.

Of course, in his case, he knew he would have been lucky to not remember at all.

Jesse got back under the covers and lay down.  He put his head on the pillow and stared at the ceiling.  Then he turned onto his side and closed his eyes.

***  

Steve looked over his father's shoulder as Mark read the release forms for the body of the John Doe.  It didn't look any different.  There was nothing to suggest it wasn't official.  It was signed and dated and would probably had been filed and forgotten about by now if they had not been interested in the corpse.

"Guy had all the credentials."  The orderly was saying, obviously not prepared to take the blame from losing the body.  "How was I supposed to know?"

Steve looked at him.  "Did you see the vehicle?  Do you remember the license plate?"

"Ordinary black meat locker."  The guy shrugged.  "Same old, same old.  I seen so many of 'em.  Didn't take a proper look, you know?"  

"Can you at least give us a description of the man who signed this form?"

"Short, I guess.  In his fifties, maybe.  Hard to tell."  The orderly shrugged again, not caring.   "It's probably just a mix-up.  I mean, who'd want the dead bum?"

Amanda nailed him with her eyes.  "Is that what you going to tell his family?"

The orderly looked shamefaced.

"He does have a point though."  Steve said.  "Why would someone steal a corpse?"

Mark frowned, glancing up from the form to consider his son's question.  

Amanda looked at them both.  "Maybe there was something on the body they didn't want us to find?"

Steve's shoulders tensed.  "They?"  

Mark turned to his son, understanding dawning on his face.  "Isn't it obvious?"  He asked.  "Paris Pharmaceuticals.  They probably thought taking the body would never be noticed."

"But they figured without Jesse remembering."  Amanda added.  "The question is, what were they trying to hide?"

***

_There was light.  Harsh green and then even harsher white, and sometimes…sometimes it was soft yellow.  But that was rare, and there was warmth then._

Jesse stared up at the ceiling of Community General but in his mind's eye, all he really saw was the light.  The memory had nothing else, but it frightened him.  

_White light around him, hurting his eyes, hurting his ears…_

_His ears?__  No, not the light: the **noise** was hurting his ears.  A single high pitch sound that went on and on and on and it didn't matter if he covered his ears with his hands and screwed his eyes up tight, he could still hear the noise and the light pierced right though his eyelids._

_"Need a doc, Doc?"_

The words echoed through his head and a face loomed in his mind and he knew there would be pain, so much pain.

Jesse cried out.

***

Steve, Mark and Amanda stood around the doctor's lounge table which was completely covered by files and documents.  The orderly stood self consciously by the doorway. Steve had insisted on his presence, so he could ask the orderly any questions they might think of. 

Steve sorted through the police file he had in front of him, trying to see if there was any correlation between that, Amanda's autopsy report and the signed release form for the John Doe which was also on the table.

Something fluttered to the floor as he arranged the folders contents in a line for Mark and Amanda to view.  The orderly made himself useful and bent down to pick it up.  It was a mug-shot photo.

The orderly straightened up.  "This is him."  He said.

"What?"

"The guy who took the body."  He held out the picture to Steve.  "I'd put money on it."

They all looked at what he held out.  

The photo showed the grim face of Quinn Trask.

To be continued…


End file.
